


The shirtless lottery

by NovemberWings



Series: Desus Drabbles [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angry Daryl, Angst, Comforting Daryl, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashback, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Scars, Sweat, hurt Jesus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 02:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8038480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberWings/pseuds/NovemberWings
Summary: Jesus has an unexpected scar on his hip and it leads to Daryl getting angry and Jesus getting upset.





	The shirtless lottery

Daryl heard a knock at the door and put his feet on the floor, from where they were resting on the coffee table, and made his way to the door; his arms swinging slightly at the side. He opened the door and saw Jesus standing on the doorstep one arm up against the door frame, his head resting on his forearm. His forehead was dripping with sweat and his face was bright red. His shirt was stuck to him from his sweat, almost see-through because of the white colour. Jesus looked at Daryl and let his usual smile find his lips.  
“Hiya, I was wondering if I could borrow a shirt.” He asked grinning a little.  
“Why my shirt?” Daryl asked, he was a little nervous, he liked Jesus a lot and he had come to terms with the fact that he wanted to be with Jesus, but he didn’t think Jesus would like him back. What was there to like?  
“Because I’m chopping wood over there,” he pointed to a pile of wood not far from Daryl’s back garden, “and your house was closest. And I’m all gross and sweaty.” His answer disappointed Daryl a little but what exactly did he expect? ‘I want to borrow your shirt because I’m in love with you and want your attire.’ Daryl gave a little nod;  
“Sure, come in.” Daryl stepped out of the doorway and watched as Jesus’ smile grew as he stepped into the house, closing the door behind him.  
“Thanks.”

Daryl looked at him, and tried not to stare at Jesus’ chest and abs through the shirt, and he noticed how dirty and sweaty Jesus was. He was soaked in sweat his hair matted, his face, arms, shirt and hands were covered in grime.  
“Do ya want a shower? You can use mine.”

“You telling me I smell, Dixon?” Jesus said jokingly while looking at a bookshelf in Daryl’s hallway. Jesus’ reply made Daryl go a little red, but it passed before Jesus turned.

“Naw. Jus’ you’re grimy and sweaty and shit.” He quickly backtracked.

“Chill, I’m teasing Daryl.” Jesus turned to look at Daryl as he spoke, “I know, I’m gross. I don’t want to take a shower because I feel bad using Alexandria’s supplies too much. I’m still not really a member here, I’ll have a shower at hilltop. But I will borrow some deodorant if you have any?” Jesus asked, still smiling- even smiling when he admitted he didn’t feel part of Alexandria, where he clearly had friends and felt comfortable (and where he spent most of his time). Jesus’ words shocked Daryl, they all excepted him as part of the group and treated him like it.

“Why don’t ya feel like you’re part of Alexandria?” Daryl asked frowning, clearly catching Jesus off guard with the question.

“W-well, I’m not really, am I?” He laughed at the rhetorical question, “I only met you a like 7 months ago and technically I still live at Hilltop.”

“’Technically’ is bullshit, you’re one of us.” Daryl grunted out. He wanted Jesus to know that. Jesus smiled.

“Thanks Daryl, that’s really kind. But I think I’ll take the shirt and deodorant, if that’s okay?” 

“Yhea sure. My room’s the one on the right, pick any shirt. I’ll bring the deodorant up ‘kay.” 

“Muchas gracias” He nodded, smiling cheekily, before jogging up the stairs. 

 

Daryl made his way into the kitchen where the deodorant was, shaking his head, with a soft smile on his lips. He really liked Jesus, but he didn’t let himself believe of hope of Jesus liking him back. 

It would never happen, he was too damaged and rugged. Jesus deserved a man who smiled freely and laughed like him. Who Jesus could hug without him flinched every now and then. He deserved a man without scars, physical and mental alike. He just wasn’t good enough for Jesus and he never would be.

Daryl grabbed the almost full can of deodorant out of the kitchen draw and starting jogging upstairs, turning right into his room. The door was slightly open, he just pushed it open expecting Jesus to be changing in the ensuite bathroom. But the sight that greeted him made a blush cover his face. 

Jesus was standing with his back to the door with no shirt of, rooting through a draw full of shirts. He pulled a shirt out, a plaid shirt with no sleeves that Daryl had cut off himself. Daryl didn’t get to admire Jesus’ smooth back, coving strong muscles, for long. Jesus turned to face Daryl undoing the buttons so he could slip it on.  
“Hi. Oh, you got the deodorant, awesome!” He smiled. 

“I, err, sorry I thought you were gonna be in the bathroom.” Daryl grunted out. Jesus’ smile grew;

“Don’t worry about it.” Reaching the last of the buttons. Daryl was trying to look anywhere other than Jesus’ body but in the roaming his eye fell upon Jesus hip and anger flashed through him immediately.

 

Across Jesus’ hip, from his belly button down to his hip bone, there was a burn scar. The burn had been formed into a word. 

 

‘FAG’

 

It was plainly obvious that someone had heated up a knife or piece of metal and burnt the word into Jesus’ skin. He didn’t mean to stare but he could stop himself.  
“Daryl? What’s wrong?” Jesus asked worry lacing his voice. Daryl realised that he had just been glaring at Jesus’ hip, frowning. His eyes went up to Jesus’ eyes and then back down to his hip. Jesus suddenly seemed to remember the scar with a start. “Oh shit!” Jesus quickly moved the shirt he was holding to cover the scar. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” Daryl looked up to Jesus’ face and the sight that greeted him broke his heart.

Jesus wasn’t smiling. Jesus always smiled. Instead his lips were turned down in a slight frown, his eyebrows drawn tight in anger, but not anger at Daryl, but anger at himself for letting Daryl see. He didn’t want anyone to see that scar.  
“Who?” Daryl’s voice shook with anger, “Who did that to you? Are they alive? I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.” Daryl meant every word he said.

Jesus’ smile reappeared, although it wasn’t as happy as before, and didn’t meet his eyes.  
“They’re dead, Daryl, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t hurt.” Daryl couldn’t believe his ears, the words that were meant to calm him did the opposite.

“It fuckin’ matters, Paul! God!” He threw the deodorant on the bed, “It may not hurt physically, but it hurts mentally! Why tha fuck would anyone do that, who the fuck did that to you?!” He was shaking with anger. He took a step forward and Jesus took a small step backwards. He realised how he was acting and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He counted to five and looked back Jesus. “Sorry,” he spoke again before Jesus could say anything, if he was going to at all, “I shouldn’t a got all angry like that. Ain’t your fault, shouldn’t shout at you.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Jesus smiled, before the smile fell a little, “It was my Dad and a few of his mates. You know, just another guy with daddy issues.” He laughed a little. Jesus walked over to the bed and sat down and Daryl went and sat next to him. They sat in silence for a minute of two before Jesus took a breath and started talking.

“When I was in year 9 I got my first boyfriend and-“

“Ya don’t have ta.” Daryl interrupted, not wanting to force Jesus to open up to him.

“I know. It’s in the past. It happened; I can’t change that, so there’s no point in pretending that it didn’t.” Jesus smiled, quickly patting Daryl’s knee before returning his hand to his own lap, leaving Daryl’s knee tingling.

 

“So I got my first boyfriend and after school we would walk home together through the park. He was a real sweetheart. He walked the longer way home so he could walk with me.” He smiled at the memory, “Most of the school knew we were dating but no one was overly aggressive or beat us up. Sure they whispered things, but we didn’t mind, we were happy. We had each other.”

“So Daniel, his name was Daniel, and I were walking home through the park and we saw an ice-cream van and we had a few dollars between us so we each got an ice cream and we decided to sit on a bench for a while. So there we were sitting and Daniel kissed me, and then we kept kissing me. I guess that day my dad decided to go out to the put with his mates. He was always a bit of a day drinker, but I mostly stayed out of his way, doing homework in my room.”

“The pub was on the other side of the road from the park and I guess he must have gone out for a smoke or something and he saw me and Daniel.” Jesus started to tear up and Daryl was listened to every word, feeling sicker the more Jesus talked. “The next thing I know Daniel is pulled off me and is on the floor being kicked and I’m grabbed by my dad and this other guy. I was screaming at them to leave him alone. They dragged me off and left Daniel, who had passed out on the floor- I think he hit his head or something. They pulled me home and dragged me up the stairs. I was kicking trying to get away but they got me to my room. They tied my hands to the bedpost with the sheets above my head and one of them sat on my legs. They started a fire in a bin they pulled into my room with my school work and pictures of my mom and Daniel.” Tears were slowly falling from his eyes, “My dad came into my room with a knife from the kitchen and heated it and carved it into my skin. I remember screaming so hard I ruined my voice. I remember the drunken men laughing and my dad grinning.” Jesus paused, getting his breath, reaching a hand up, wiping away some of the tears, though more replaced them.

“I took the next day off school, but the day after I wrapped myself in bandages and went to school and acted as normally as possible. I couldn’t find Daniel, and it turned out that his mother heard what had happened and didn’t want to risk Daniel anymore and they both went and lived with Daniel’s father in Texas. I never got to say goodbye.” Jesus let out a little sob. “That night I went home and packed a bag and went to the police and said that my parents had kicked me out and I was housed by a foster family from then on.” 

 

Jesus let out a little sob and then started to cry, he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle the sobs. Then Daryl did something he had never expected he’d do. He pulled Jesus into a hug rubbing his bare back, letting Jesus cry into his shirt.  
“Come ‘ere. It’s alright, come on. Shh.” He whispered nothings in Jesus’ ear and let him cry it out. Daryl wanted to cry himself but he need to be strong for Paul right now.  
“It h-hurt so much.” Jesus sobbed into his shoulder, shattering Daryl’s heart.  
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you, Paul, I really am. You didn’t deserve it.” He spoke stroking Jesus’ hair.

After a few minutes of crying Jesus righted himself and wiped his tears and sniffled a little, before letting out a little chuckle, he normal smile returning although it didn’t look right through the tear marks on his face.

It looked like the sun shining through the clouds after it had just thundered. Where the rain was still palpable in the air, and it created a rainbow.  
“What you laughin’ at?” Daryl smirked a little.

“It’s just that, I wanted my first hug with you to be under different circumstances.” He let out another little chuckle, and Daryl just pulled him into another hug.

“You silly little shit.” He laughed a little, joining Jesus’ laughter. Daryl let Jesus go and Jesus sat back and pulled the shirt on, before standing up and picking up the deodorant and spraying on himself.

“I can’t believe you hugged me, I reek and I’m gross. Daryl Dixon let me snot and sweat all over him, the others would never believe.” He let out another chuckle, his smile becoming more real.

“Don’t matter to me.” Daryl mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“I said it don’t matter that you were sweatin’ and snottin’ I like you.” Daryl said before thinking about it, making his own face go red with embarrassment. He looked at his feet on the floor, he couldn’t look at Jesus after saying that.

Daryl felt Jesus’ hand on his chin, gently lifting his head to look at Jesus who was standing above him. His eyes met with Jesus’ and he realised how beautiful this man is.  
“I like you too, Daryl. A lot.” Jesus said his words firmly, no hesitation in his voice. Daryl’s blush deepened.

“Why?” Daryl frowned a little, confused.

“Because you’re a loyal, and kind, and loving to your friends. Your friends are blood and nothing can change that. I love that about you. It’s important, and says a lot about a person, how they treat their friends and I know for a fact you would kill and die and live for them, and that’s the hardest thing in the world. Plus you’re beautiful. I love your face, your arms, your legs, your hair, your ass. You’re one big walking ‘beautiful’.” He smiled as he spoke, watching Daryl’s face grow a darker shade of red with each word. “Plus, you’re bashful and that’s cute as fuck.” He laughed.

“You’re beautiful too, even after you’ve cried, Daniel was a lucky man.” Jesus smiled at the compliment and placed either one of his knees on either side of Daryl’s legs and knelt over him- straddling him. He gently took Daryl’s face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, a chaste kiss not a proper kiss.

 

“You could be the next lucky man if you want to be?” Jesus asked, blushing a little under the tears stricken face. Daryl leant forward, following in his instincts though he was little unsure, and placed a gentle hand on Paul’s cheek and then a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I could only wish ta be that lucky.” He smiled a little.

“Well, Daryl Dixon, you just won the lottery.” Jesus smiled back, placing his arms around Daryl’s shoulders hugging him tightly, and Daryl hugged him back. 

 

Their chests light with happiness, and even though they could both feel their scars more than ever they could feel each other more than ever before. They would make it through this together.

 

They would survive. No they wouldn't survive. They would live.


End file.
